


Schoolboy Lessons

by Nicecuppatea



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: DKBP, Dark Kingsman Block Party June Challenge, Schoolboy AU, strong swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-08 04:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11074275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicecuppatea/pseuds/Nicecuppatea
Summary: Harry and Eggsy meet as schoolboys and teach each other new skills.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The language reflects their backgrounds and age:
> 
> Harry is younger and day dreams quite a bit. He uses the vocab of Eton, an elitist boys' school where future Kingsman Knights and Prime Ministers learn to call teachers 'beaks' and, instead of saying that they will be sent to the head teacher for punishment, say they are being “put on the bill”. 
> 
> Eggsy uses the language of the Estates: he swears all the time but his crude words are often used affectionately without their true meaning and are not gender-specific. 
> 
> A ginnel is a narrow alleyway, golden rain is being pissed on from the balcony above and Eggsy says arse, not ass (which means donkey in Britain).

Harry Hart held the thin roll-up delicately between his index finger and thumb, gingerly bringing it to his lips as though it would burn him. The smell of smoke was not unpleasant but his eyes stung and he wasn’t sure he liked it. 

“Thank-you, Eggsy,” he said, passing it back to the scruffy boy lounging against the alley wall next to him. 

The boy pushed himself upright. “You a’right, bruv?” His raised eyebrows hinted at amusement but his voice was considerate. 

“Yes, I’m good, thank-you,” Harry replied, anxious to reassure his new friend and provider of his first cigarette.

Eggsy nodded, taking a long drag of the cigarette and popping out five perfect smoke rings. 

Harry snorted with glee. “You are such a show off.” 

Eggsy bowed deeply like a true showman appreciating his audience. He had practised hard to get his mouth in the right shape to produce perfect circles of smoke but none of the boys on the estate would show that they were impressed with it. 

“Wanna learn how to do it?” Eggsy said brightly. 

The innocence of the young boy from the posh school excited him. Before they arrived he and the other kids were expecting them to be snobby wretches and the uniforms with ties and smart blazers seemingly proved them right. So when he had been assigned Harry, he had made a show of looking the boy up and down, and delighted in the awkwardness he saw. Maybe this one could be taught a few things, he had thought arrogantly, and decided on a series of tests. 

It had taken but moments for him to realise that Harry was overexcited and by the time they had slunk away behind the bicycle sheds - the irony not lost on either boy - Harry was looking up to him like an older, wiser brother. He was smaller and thinner than Eggsy but had an innocent ballsiness that made Eggsy feel protective of him. 

Harry looked down at the ground and toe’d a small stone against the wall. “Not now.”

“How long are you little buggers ‘ere for then?” Eggsy asked, deftly changing the subject to avoid any embarrassment.

“I have to be at the mini-bus at four thirty.”

Eggsy grinned roguishly, “Plenty o’ fuckin’ time to try something else new, ain’t there?”

Harry didn’t answer immediately. Truth be told, he was mesmerised by Eggsy’s violently yellow jacket: it would be wicked to have one the same, but he couldn't possibly ask Eggsy where he got it from, and the beaks would find a reason to confiscate it as soon as he wore it. He knew he would be put on the bill if Eggsy got him into trouble and instantly decided it would be worth it. He frowned a little, trying to imagine what kind of trouble Eggsy would lead him into next. He pursed his lips in deep thought. Perhaps...

“Anyone at home, ‘Arry?” Eggsy prompted, snapping his fingers. 

“‘Ere, yer dreamy twat,” he pointed to a dark alleyway, “we’re goin’ down the ginnel.” 

Eggsy led him down several alleys until they reached King Street which was deserted save for an old lady tottering across the road in high heels, her face almost obliterated by make up. Harry stared in fascination until Eggsy’s elbow made him realise that he was being impolite. He ran to catch up with Eggsy, exhilarated at not knowing where he was or where they were going. 

“My whole life is in your hands, Eggsy,” he said seriously as he strode alongside, following his friend’s habit of glancing around as he walked. 

Eggsy snorted. “Sod off, Harry, you say some fuckin’ weird stuff.” He smiled broadly at the younger boy who took the approval as an invitation to ask questions. 

Eggsy strode down the street, warily glancing in all directions, whilst patiently answering the questions. It was clear that some of his answers mystified Harry who had never had to watch out for golden rain when passing underneath balconies, and Eggsy struggled not to show his amusement as Harry grappled with the many differences between his sedate home environment and the jungle that Eggsy called home.

Harry started to learn the rules, keeping his eyes down as they passed a gang of dissolute teenagers hanging on the street corner. They rounded the corner and, after checking behind him, Eggsy pulled him into a shaded alley and raced away from him.

Harry watched him, slightly hurt that his new friend had tricked him. Perhaps this was a trap. That always happened in the books - he had been lured in. He twisted round to check if any of the teenagers had followed them. There was no-one there but the feeling remained and he jumped out of fright when he heard Eggsy’s voice.

The other boy had stopped running and was standing with his hands on his waist, frowning. “Whatcha doin’, ‘Arry? Yer fuckin’ dozing, again. C’mon down here and watch me.”

Relieved that his imagined ordeal was over, Harry sprinted down the alley. Eggsy was grinning broadly at him and, as he drew level, punched him hard on his upper arm causing him to whelp.

Eggsy taunted him good naturedly that he sounded like a puppy so Harry ran around him in circles pretending to yip and yap then jumped on his back from behind, throwing his arms round Eggsy’s neck and squeezing his legs round the boy’s waist. It took Eggsy by surprise - younger boys gave each other ‘piggy backs’ but it had been years since he and his friends had larked around with each other like that.

He started to shake his head in disbelief, only for Harry to grab a handful of hair, give it a yank and shout, “Yeee-haaaa!” 

Eggsy hesitated only a moment before grabbing Harry’s thighs, neighing loudly and running down the alleyway, zig-zagging in the pretense of dismounting his rider who was bouncing up and down delightedly on his back.

Harry was loving every minute of it - he always enjoyed the camaraderie of other boys but Eggsy had a wildness about him that was intoxicating. He could run so fast that Harry could easily imagine he was a cowboy like he used to when he was younger but there was the added bonus now he was older - the warmth and jigging of Eggsy’s body was making him hard.

Harry had a moment of conflicted thought: the possibility of being mocked by Eggsy was mortifying but his current euphoria overcame his anxiety and he bounced with extra vigour, feeling the rub on his cock as it slid down Eggsy’s back.

Eggsy was laughing when he came to an abrupt halt and dipped his head to dislodge Harry who tumbled over his right shoulder to land in a heap on the ground. Whilst Harry sat on the ground, rubbing the shoulder he had landed on, Eggsy had started running again, quickly building up speed and jumping sideways to run up a wall. Harry stopped rubbing and watched, his heart pounding as Eggsy lept from the wall onto an iron railing, missing the spikes by inches and launching himself upwards to run along the high wall separating the narrow gardens. As Eggsy threw himself into the air with nothing to break his fall, Harry was fleetingly reminded of the flying squirrels dropping from high trees in a jungle that had he had seen on a nature programme. At the last moment Eggsy grabbed a washing line that creaked then snapped. The whip crack echoed round the narrow alley and Harry shouted out in alarm as Eggsy swung up his legs and somersaulted to land with his body erect and arms outstretched like an Olympic gymnast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested, have a look at the Eton School website - they even have a glossary for parents so they can understand their kids. It costs about $40,000/yr but is called a public school because in the 15th century it was a school for poor kids. The level of privilege is astounding - in 2016 several Eton boys were invited to the Kremlin to meet Vladimir Putin before the new British Prime Minister met him.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry was silent, his mind not yet caught up with Eggsy’s feat. Eggsy held his pose until Harry started to clap and whoop then he bowed ostentatiously. 

Anxious to prove himself, Harry stopped clapping and ran up to Eggsy shouting, “My turn now!” 

Harry took off, running as fast as he could then jumped sideways, lifting his lower legs at an angle to touch the wall and push off. It worked and he was briefly astounded before looking for the next obstacle. Close up the railing spikes looked sharper and the walls higher. He halted and turned to Eggsy, his face showing his uncertainty.

Eggsy was grinning, “Now finish with a flourish.”

Harry drew up his body, whipping out his arms and standing on his toes as still as a soldier waiting for the command from a senior officer. Eggsy walked up, nodding his approval, and patted him on the back, clearly proud of his protege. “Bloody Brilliant!”

Harry's feeling of exhilaration returned and he grabbed Eggsy round his waist into a tight hug, surprising the other boy. This was not done on the estate where everyone kept a respectful distance; hugging was reserved for mothers and even those hugs were given grudgingly. Despite that, he followed Harry’s lead and placed his hands on the other boy’s shoulders, feeling himself being pulled closer. Despite the age difference, they were a similar height and fitted together well. 

Harry tilted his head to press his cheek against Eggsy. It was a simple gesture but for a split second Eggsy had no idea what to do. He fought his panic, borne of years living in a macho environment, and awkwardly leant into Harry, standing still to savour the warmth of the other boy. It wasn’t long before Eggsy felt soft lips feathering his cheekbones. He looked up the alleyway to see if anyone could see them - it was empty. A quick breath, a turn of his face and he pressed his lips against Harry’s. There was no time to wait for a reaction, he pulled away and turned to walk back towards the street. 

“Hey, Eggsy,” Harry called anxiously, “have I upset you?”

Eggsy heard but didn’t turn round. This was the point when he made the decision. It should have felt momentous but the familiarity of the dirty alleyway took that away from him. 

The reality was stark: if anyone suspected anything - even the slightest whisper - the scorn of his neighbourhood would be immediate; if they were seen together then he would be ostracised by all but his loyalest friends, and Dean would be merciless. He had grown to accept this as the norm, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to touch another boy until he was an adult and moved away, but here he was, standing in this skanky place with this posh, handsome boy who clearly wanted him, and he had a chance to be himself. 

He realised he had been silent for too long and turned round to see Harry’s dejected expression. “No, it was, um...” he spread his hands out in front of him, finding it easier to gesture than to explain the magnitude of his decision. 

Harry didn’t understand the hesitation but he knew that Eggsy was saying a silent yes so he grinned roguishly and, in a rough approximation of Eggsy's brogue, said, “Plenty o’time to try something else new, ain’t there?”

At that moment Eggsy knew it was going to be worth the risk. 

There were several ‘private’ areas around the estate - the middle of the tangle of the blackberry bushes by the power station, the abandoned garden where mad Molly lived, the underground dens adjacent to the railway line, the best of which had been carpeted so the older boys could shag their girlfriends in relative safety - but all were too dangerous for them. Reluctantly, Eggsy took Harry to the one place he felt safe, even from Dean: the bathroom at home.

They entered only after Eggsy had put his ear to the door and checked that no-one was in the flat. 

Although Harry was aware of the concept of flats and apartments, it was his first time inside one and he was struck by how much like an overstuffed doll’s house it was. As they moved through the flat, the layout became clear: it was built in the shape of an E. Harry’s home was too, but there the comparison ended. The open door to the right led to the kitchen and, judging from the empty foil containers and pungent smell, it was not difficult to deduce that last night’s dinner was a take-away curry. They carried on through the adjacent door into a rectangular living room, dominated by two bright maroon leather sofas and the largest television Harry had ever seen. There were two doors, both closed, and Eggsy zig-zagged around the sofas to the far one.

Eggsy’s room was tiny and its layout was dictated by the shape: the bed was on the opposite wall under the window because it couldn’t fit anywhere else in the room, the wardrobe and chest of drawers were facing it, crammed together so there was only a narrow space beside the bed filled by a worn fluffy white rug. The walls were covered in posters, mostly Harry noted wryly, of handsome footballers with muscular bodies. 

A cheval mirror was on the far wall and, when Harry looked at it, he saw that Eggsy was staring at him. To judge from his face, he was relieved that no-one had been at home but, on catching Harry’s eye, the look was replaced by apprehension. His body was tense and his fingers were fiddling nervously with the buckle on his belt. Harry stood behind him and placed an arm gently around Eggsy’s shoulder and brushed his lips against his ear, whispering until he felt Eggsy’s shoulders relax. 

Eggsy kept his eyes safely fixed on Harry’s, as he felt Harry’s hand slip around his waist and help him to undo his buckle. He swallowed involuntarily as he was guided to unzip his own trousers.

A small hand ghosted over his growing erection. “Mmmm,” Harry murmured, “now take your trousers off.”


	3. Chapter 3

The warm hand moved down to cup his erection through his boxers and Eggsy had a brief feeling of annoyance that he was wearing a old pair. The thought stopped when fingers curled under his balls and began to squeeze gently. He pushed down onto them, wanting more, but Harry smiled and relaxed his grip. 

“‘Arry, you fuckin’ shit...” Eggsy started to object but was interrupted by Harry’s firm voice. 

“I said,” Harry paused dramatically, “take them off, Eggsy.” Harry’s voice hadn’t broken yet but its high pitch did not detract from the strength of his command. 

As he watched Eggsy balance confidently on one foot then the other to take off shoes and socks, he felt invincible like a Roman Emperor being hero-worshipped. Harry’s mind wandered. He would be the tallest man, wearing the corona radiata and purple toga, and commanding respect of all his subjects. They would willingly do whatever he told them to do. 

He was distracted by the sight before him. There was nothing delicate about Eggsy Unwin’s legs - they were muscular with dark, wiry hair covering the mahogany brown of his skin until half-way up his thigh where the brown faded to cream - yet to Harry, who hated his soft down of pre-pubescence, they embodied strength and masculinity. As Eggsy bent to pull off his trousers, the taut muscles in his thighs and calves rippling, Harry’s cock twitched in anticipation. 

Resisting the immediacy of his desire, he pulled Eggsy in front of the mirror, standing behind him, a Roman Emperor ready to initiate his young subject. He slowly pulled Eggsy’s polo neck over his head, running his hands over the muscled arms and chest.

“Do you know what I see?” He asked imperiously, trying to look Eggsy in the eye but failing to drag his eyes away from Eggsy’s cock - huge and thick compared to his own. 

Eggsy looked in the mirror and saw a small boy craning over his shoulder staring at his cock which was bobbing against his stomach. He wanted to laugh, he wanted to say “my cock” but the younger boy was looking so earnestly that it would clearly hurt him. He kept quiet. 

“I see a boy with potential.” There was an intensity in Harry’s words as though the words were portentous and that Eggsy should know this. 

Instead the words fell heavily on him and an old resentment flared up. It was easy for Harry to say such a thing but boys with potential were born with silver spoons up their arses, not on the estates. Posh boys like Harry didn’t know anything about real life, he knew nothing about Eggsy’s home life, he couldn’t imagine the beatings Dean handed out when he was pissed or the bleakness of knowing he would be trapped at home when he finished school with no job and no money. 

Anger started to uncoil inside and he shoved backwards. He expected the usual jostling following his playground push of dissent but Harry did the opposite, grasping his hips and pulling him closer. The feel of Harry’s small erection pushing hard against his bare arse stopped his objection and he looked back to the mirror.

This time the sight of himself - naked in another boy’s arms - made him physically shake. When he had imagined what it would be like he had always pictured the other boy as older, and the sight of Harry’s smooth skin and innocent eyes made the scene utterly filthy. He reached round to stroke his hands over Harry’s baby arse before taking a firm grip and pulling the other boy closer. 

Then Harry began to whisper, telling him he was a good boy, how he was going to enjoy this whilst his hand stroked Eggsy’s cock, coming close to the tip but never reaching it.The heel of his other hand was pressed against the base of his cock, fingers curled round his balls. Blood surged south and he felt suddenly lightheaded with the reality of what was going to happen. 

He felt Harry’s arms pulling him closer and looked up to see Harry’s eyebrows rise in a silent question. It was reassuring and unsettling in one, and Eggsy knew it would be futile to attempt to explain his confusion to Harry. Instead he took refuge in pragmatism: “‘Arry, we gotta go to the fuckin’ bathroom. It ain’t safe here,” he whispered.

Harry released him, wondering why it would be safer in another room but a glance at the door told him the answer: there was a fist sized hole above the lock. 

Before Eggsy could get to the door, Harry had smacked his naked arse and they giggled like young children as they ran through the living room, Harry trying to smack Eggsy again as they dodged through the kitchen and finally reached the relative safety of the bathroom. 

As the bolt clunked home, Eggsy was able to relax and stretch out his hands to pull Harry in for a kiss. There was less finesse on Harry’s part, his natural elegance deserting him as he lunged forward and pinned Eggsy against the door. 

Eggsy started to tell Harry to take off some of his clothes but his mouth was suddenly full of Harry’s tongue. The wet roughness felt strange, not at all like his previous experience of kissing girl. This was hard and brutal, and all he could do was open wider and submit to Harry’s pleasure. His mind tried to make sense of how he was so readily relinquishing control to another person and why, after a lifetime of fighting against subservience, this felt right.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested, have a look at the Eton School website - they even have a glossary for parents so they can understand their kids. It costs about $40,000/yr but is called a public school because in the 15th century it was a school for poor kids. The level of privilege is astounding - in 2016 several Eton boys were invited to the Kremlin to meet Vladimir Putin before the new British Prime Minister met him.


End file.
